Month: May 2016

As mentioned, I am working on a new novel, the title of which I’ve changed. Its former name was Tulsi. Now, I am calling it “Unravel.”

So far, I’ve posted the chapters I was able to complete on my other blog. But I figured to include links for you lovely people to check out as well, since this where I post my short stories and creative projects.

A synopsis:

Subhash and Naima are middle-class, suburban, white-collar professionals living in central New Jersey, who will do anything to maintain the life they’ve built. They are also young parents to their 6 year old daughter, Tulsi. Both want the best for her, but as they face off against obstacles, they begin to realize that choices must be made and consequences accepted.

CHAPTER 1

Excerpt:

Naima held on. But once they stepped through, Tulsi squirmed free and ran.

As the only black reporter, Naima usually relied on what she described to Subhash when they started dating, as her “Spidey sense.” Back then, it was cute, and even something to be proud of, an ability to be conscious of what was around her at almost all times, a skill perfect for her job. But after spending nearly seven years in the same newsroom, and trying her best to get to know everyone who’d come through, even the interns, she realized that her valued “Spidey sense” was tingling more and more often. Everyone was a possible enemy she concluded after a co-worker (who left to be an editor for The New York Times after only a year at the Tribune) complained about Naima’s “demeanor” to the others last summer, claiming that Naima was too “abrasive.” Naima learned her lesson to not let her guard down just yet. It was tiring of course. And on some mornings, she felt like staying in bed and closing her eyes, imagining she was someplace else, somewhere she could laugh as loud as she wanted, or even cry in public. At times like that, she’d tell herself that one day, it would all be worth it. One day, all this would be returned in full.

“I don’t know what to do,” Rhona said, gasping for breath. “They just came saying they needed to talk to me, and I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know who they were. I told you I wanted to be anonymous. I don’t want to be a part of this anymore.”

For a moment, Subhash had the urge to jump into the crowd. He took a step forward. Tulsi wrapped her arms around his leg like it was a tree.

Subhash scooped her up into his arms and hustled to the opposite end, disappearing behind the art museum. He moved as fast as he could without losing his grip on Tulsi, as her arms were around his neck.

After spending a few years working full-time as a journalist, I decided to torture myself and try and earn a PhD in Political Science at Rutgers University.

Although I am distinctly qualitative (which means I focus mostly on narrative and other skills similar to what I did as a reporter), I also took statistics courses. I am not a fan of quantitative but I’ll admit that there are advantages in knowing how to operate and use data, from demographics to income.

After two semesters of stats, I am somewhat more familiar with SPSS, which is a stats program that some social scientists use. The tables below were produced by me but were initially created by running designs in SPSS. If all this sounds confusing, it can be. None of this is accessible to everyday people and my hope is to explain enough so that you, as the reader, can gain some knowledge about all this.

So, consider this my first attempt at translating what can be hardcore complex concepts into ordinary language.

I utilized the most-known data set centered on Asian-Americans’ views and opinions about politics and society. Typically, most surveys in social science, especially political science, over-sample white Americans, which skew results in my opinion about how America really feels about issues like race and the economy. This data set, which you can click here to learn more about, was done in 2008 and extremely focused on Asian-Americans. Hence, why you will see most of those interviewed as Asian-Americans.

I was interested in running tests to see how Asian-Americans feel toward Black and white Americans.

The tables below are what social scientists call “cross-tabulations.” The first table asks respondents how much they share in common with white Americans. As you can tell, it is reasonably divided for Asian-Americans, although a majority did answer that they had “some” commonalities with white Americans.

Black/ Af-Am

Asian/Asian-Am

Hispanic/Latino

A lot in common

3

146

1

Some

3

516

1

Little

0

299

0

Nothing in common

2

183

0

Don’t Know

1

184

0

Refused

0

19

1

This second table is asking respondents if they share anything in common with black Americans. Similarly, Asian-Americans do answer that they there “some” commonalities to “little.”

This is just one test. I plan to work with more data sets in the future. For now, what this shows us is that Asian-Americans aren’t monolithic in how they feel toward either black or white, and often, tow the middle. Something I will try and do is be more specific as to which type of Asian/Asian-Americans feel more closely with either white or black.

As mentioned, I am working on a new novel, the title of which I’ve changed. Its former name was Tulsi. Now, I am calling it “Unravel.”

So far, I’ve posted the chapters I was able to complete on my other blog. But I figured to include links for you lovely people to check out as well, since this where I post my short stories and creative projects.

A synopsis:

Subhash and Naima are middle-class, suburban, white-collar professionals living in central New Jersey, who will do anything to maintain the life they’ve built. They are also young parents to their 6 year old daughter, Tulsi. Both want the best for her, but as they face off against obstacles, they begin to realize that choices must be made and consequences accepted.

CHAPTER 1

Excerpt:

Naima held on. But once they stepped through, Tulsi squirmed free and ran.

As the only black reporter, Naima usually relied on what she described to Subhash when they started dating, as her “Spidey sense.” Back then, it was cute, and even something to be proud of, an ability to be conscious of what was around her at almost all times, a skill perfect for her job. But after spending nearly seven years in the same newsroom, and trying her best to get to know everyone who’d come through, even the interns, she realized that her valued “Spidey sense” was tingling more and more often. Everyone was a possible enemy she concluded after a co-worker (who left to be an editor for The New York Times after only a year at the Tribune) complained about Naima’s “demeanor” to the others last summer, claiming that Naima was too “abrasive.” Naima learned her lesson to not let her guard down just yet. It was tiring of course. And on some mornings, she felt like staying in bed and closing her eyes, imagining she was someplace else, somewhere she could laugh as loud as she wanted, or even cry in public. At times like that, she’d tell herself that one day, it would all be worth it. One day, all this would be returned in full.

“I don’t know what to do,” Rhona said, gasping for breath. “They just came saying they needed to talk to me, and I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know who they were. I told you I wanted to be anonymous. I don’t want to be a part of this anymore.”